Chapter 11 – The Drawing

I stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to wake Isabella or Teresa.

I sat on the edge of the large bed. Elena reached out her frail hand and rested it over mine. Her skin was warm.

“Luca called from the boardroom,” Elena whispered, her voice stronger than it had been the night before. “It’s done. Dominic is out. The board froze his assets, and the FBI is raiding his offices right now with the evidence from the diary.”

I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for twenty-four hours. “It’s really over.”

“It’s over,” Elena nodded, tears welling in her bright eyes. She squeezed my hand. “You gave me my life back, Emily. You gave my daughter her father back. There are no words to repay that.”

“You don’t have to repay anything,” I smiled softly. “I’m just glad Bella is safe.”

At the sound of her name, Isabella shifted. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her messy dark hair falling over her face.

She looked at her mother, then at me.

A massive, beaming smile broke across the little girl’s face.

She didn’t reach for her pocket this time. She didn’t look afraid.

Isabella reached under her pillow and pulled out a fresh piece of paper. She handed it to me.

“For you,” Isabella said.

In perfect English.

My breath caught. It was the first time I had heard her speak English since I started working at the mansion.

I took the paper.

It was a crayon drawing.

It showed a large, sunny house. In the front yard stood four stick figures holding hands.

A tall man with dark hair. A woman with a silver swallow necklace. A little girl with a big smile.

And standing right beside them, holding the little girl’s other hand, was a woman with blonde hair, wearing a pocket watch around her neck.

Underneath the picture, written in wobbly, nine-year-old handwriting, were the words:

Our Family.

I pressed my hand to my mouth, tears blurring my vision.

“She worked on it all morning,” Elena said softly, leaning her head against Isabella’s hair.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Luca walked into the room. He had taken off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his collar. The weight of the world, the heavy mantle of the mafia boss, was completely gone from his shoulders.

He just looked like a father coming home.

He walked over to the bed, kissed Elena deeply, and scooped Isabella up into his arms, spinning her around as she giggled loudly.

He set her down and looked at me.

“I spoke to my lawyers on the way back,” Luca said, his dark eyes warm and soft. “I set up a trust in your name, Emily. It’s enough to buy a house anywhere you want, pay for any college degree you want to pursue, and live comfortably for the rest of your life.”

I started to shake my head. “Luca, I can’t accept—”

“It’s not a gift,” Luca interrupted gently. “It’s a debt paid. For my wife. For my daughter. But…”

He paused, glancing at Elena, who was smiling knowingly.

“But if you want to stay in Chicago,” Luca continued, “we have a guest house on the estate. It’s yours. Isabella needs a tutor, and I think Elena and I could use a friend we can actually trust.”

I looked down at the drawing in my hands. The little stick figure family holding hands in the sun.

I looked at my grandmother’s pocket watch, finally feeling free of the heavy secrets it had carried for thirty years.

I looked up at Luca, Elena, and Isabella.

“I’d like that very much,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

Isabella cheered, throwing her arms around my waist.

Outside the window, the morning sun fully broke through the clouds, casting a bright, golden light over the estate.

The secrets were buried. The enemies were gone.

And for the first time in my life, I was finally home.

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